


Full Metal

by BlameMyMuses



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Jaeger Pilot AU, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:37:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1196940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlameMyMuses/pseuds/BlameMyMuses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a reason they were the youngest pilots the Pan Pacific Defense Corp had ever dared put in a machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Metal

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thank you to Kindigo for her prowess as beta!

Damn it, damn it, the jaeger is dead in the water and the kaiju is still coming!

 

“Al, you hanging in there?”

 

“I'm good, brother! Are the computers reacting at all?”

 

A desperate head shake, more felt through their Drift than seen. Peripheral vision wasn't great in their helmets, after all.

 

To hell with it. Ed gave himself a shake, then started pulling the various plugs and cables free of his suit until he could move around the cockpit freely.

 

“Brother, what are you doing?”

 

His foot was tangled in the cords, but whatever, it wasn't in the way. He could reach the main hard drives if he stretched. It took a moment for Al's question to penetrate the haze of his focus.

 

“Trying to get things running again,” he said. “I'm pretty sure that last jolt knocked a few things loose, that’s all. Just wait there, I'll be done in a second, Al.”

 

Al, for once in his life, did as he was told, quietly watching for the kaiju. It was a sneaky one, slipping under the water and attacking from a new direction each time, and with the computers glitching like they were, Ed needed Al's attention firmly outside Full Metal.

 

“Brother—!”

 

Shit. The kaiju rammed them, and the jaeger rocked dangerously. Ed lost his grip on the control panels, falling backwards until his helmet hit the floor, leaving his ears ringing and his teeth aching from the impact.

 

He'd get this done, he would! Al was in danger, and it was his job as the elder brother to keep him safe! It wouldn't be long before the kaiju came back around to ram them again—unless it got bored and resumed its course towards shore—so he knew he had to work fast.

 

Back on his feet, still trying to kick the stray cables from where they wrapped around his leg, Ed went back to the screen and started mashing keys like the genius people said he was. Fuck them, they didn't appreciate the years of hard work he'd put into learning this shit!

 

“It's coming around again!”

 

“Damn it,” Ed hissed, finally giving in to his rage and just slamming a fist against the side of the busted console. Miraculously, the lights in the cockpit started to sputter back to life.

 

“Brother, get back in the harness!”

 

Ed turned, tense, as he realized that he'd left Al hooked in solo, that the machines would read him as the only pilot until Ed got himself linked back up and shit! That was his little brother!

 

It was a fight against tangled cables and wires--especially hampered as he was by the snarled mess still wrapped around his leg--to get back to his position as right hemisphere so Al wouldn't be piloting alone. The kaiju rammed them again just as he was plugging in. They were still half-linked up, so the drift was fast and smooth, and anyway it was Al so it's not like they'd ever had any trouble with their synchronization anyway. His little brother was a comforting brush against his psyche nonetheless, and by the time the kaiju came back around for a third—fourth?—time Ed was ready. Their reaction time was as unrivaled as their programming skills, after all. There was a reason they were the youngest pilots the Pan Pacific Defense Corp had ever dared put in a machine.

They dodged. Full Metal was all but dancing, they kept her so light on her feet, and while the kaiju was still throttling forward, lost to momentum, they brought their dangerous right arm down on the back of its neck like it was so much sushi.

A spasm, and then it was thrashing around to re-engage them, this time not with its heavy hammer-like head, but with terrible rending claws, and a jaw that seemed to stretch as it clamped teeth on their jaeger. It pulled, snarling, at the arm, yanking and tearing until it hung useless.

 

Ed swore as the rigging pulled his suit along with it, practically dislocating his shoulder as the whole jaeger lurched and he was stretched like a man on the rack, arm pulled helplessly one way, and the coils still holding his leg dragging him the other.

 

“Brother!?”

 

“I'm fine, Al! Cannon?”

 

“Charging!”

Flickering concern from Al kept prodding at Ed's awareness, but part of the Drift was knowing what involuntary emotions to ignore and which to pay attention to. There were more pressing concerns. He couldn't get his arm to do what it was supposed to, and their cannon, while effective, wasn't great if you were in a rush.

 

An idea started to form. Al followed his train of thought, and agreed before Ed could voice it.

 

It meant half-disengaging from the jaeger, but with the right-side useless, that wasn't as big a deal as it might otherwise have been. He left his helmet firmly in place to continue sharing the neural load, but freed his other arm to start typing commands into the computer interface on his left.

 

It was risky, intentionally shorting out one's jaeger, but with the kaiju latched on like that, a close-range electrical burst seems like their best option, while Al's arm cannon finished charging.

Ed hit one last command key.

 

A sizzle, and then the kaiju was thrashing away from them, underwater again.

 

“Cannon is go,” said Al, voice grim.

 

“Wait till you won't miss,” said Ed. They were looking around, eyes tracking the waters for movement. He felt Al's nod.

 

And then everything happens at once.

Aft sensors start beeping seconds too late, and even with their phenomenal speed, they can't turn all the way around. They rotate to the left, cannon first so that maybe Al can get the shot off, but no.

 

Teeth rip into the cockpit, claws rip into the belly and gut Full Metal of her core until the computers are only emergency power. And, oh, god, teeth.

 

Ed feels it as it happens.

 

They should have turned the other direction. Then it would be his side of the jaeger, not Al's.

 

The cannon goes off. Strikes its target.

Teeth and claws and they should have turned the other direction.

 

Al screams, just once.

 

The neural link goes fizzy with static and there is a pain like—

 

White hot.

 

Lightning inside the skull.

 

Breathtaking.

 

Soul scorching.

They're falling. Full Metal is going down, falling, and Ed's only half connected, and his arm is still at that awful angle, and his leg's all tied up in loose cables and Al is—

 

Everywhere, there is agony. Something is horribly wrong with his leg. He's dangling from it, can't feel it, and his arm is a wreck too, but Al. Al is what's important. He can't see his brother, the left hemisphere is all dark. He can't see him, but he can feel him, still there in the Drift.

 

It is stupid. It is dangerous. But it's his brother, and Ed doesn't hesitate.

 

With a scream, he frees his other arm and gropes in the dark for the flickering computer interface hanging just within reach of his fingertips. He drags it up, starts programming with hypothetical codes he'd only ever read about, because damn it he can make these work. He knows these numbers, knows ways to keep the mind from breaking out of the Drift on its own. He puts in safety nets—can't let Al chase the rabbit—and deletes the backdoors, closes packet gates that would have let them dismantle his brother's uplink.

 

He can still feel Al, lost and terrified in the Drift, reaching out.

Ed extends a digital thread towards him, and Al grasps at it, reeling himself in, back to where he can feel his brother's panic.

 

Ed signs the deal. Closes the final gate.

 

“Brother?” Al's voice echoes from all around, crackling from Full Metal's damaged internal speakers, hissing close and comforting right into Ed's headset.

 

“It's okay, Al,” Ed gasps, all the pain finally beginning to register, breaking in through the comforting haze of desperation. “It's okay,” he repeats. “I've got you. You're here. In the jaeger. It's all going to be okay...”

 

And then darkness.

  
  



End file.
